Invincible

3.

Vic made his way through the tangled maze of hung over SEALs in our sleeping quarters to talk to me. “Want to get dinner?”

If I flaked on them two nights in a row, they’d know I was up to something. “I can’t. I’m going to get a massage.”

Kyle’s head popped up in his rack. “As long as it includes a happy ending, I’m in.”

These men were my best friends—I didn’t want to lie to them. We’d saved each other’s lives more times than I cared to remember.

“No can do, I’m already late. I’ll be back in a bit and we’ll go out.” I slipped a watch on my wrist and left the ship.

I had to see Annie before they shuffled her to another brothel and I lost the opportunity forever. My goal was to assess the situation, case the building, and size up her captors, so I could plan a mission. I had to see her again—I needed to be one hundred percent sure that the girl with the hollow eyes really was Annie.

Would the pimp get suspicious if I came back two days in a row? I doubted it. If she, Annie, had survived five years, she must’ve gained their trust. They probably thought she was so strung out that she wanted dope more than she wanted her old life back. That’s how these lowlifes worked—strip these girls of their identities.

But she’d told me her name. She trusted me. And I’d walked away from her.

Some hero.

The streets seemed less bright today. I had actually looked forward to my Team’s mission in the Caribbean waters. Curaçao was a better destination than Afghanistan, as far as I was concerned. But now I’d rather be roasting in the mountains, than investigating the underbelly of this paradise.

I stopped by a tourist shop. Purchased some water, snacks, lotion, and a dress for Annie. Also bought her a small necklace, which I placed in my pocket.

The same Columbian man found me on the street. “Sailor, you had good time? Welcome back, my friend.”

I hated the way these vipers called me friend. I wondered if he even knew Annie was American. Often these girls were traded to other pimps, so he might not even know who she was, if she kept her cover. Even though he carried a rifle around his shoulders, I could take this fool in a second even without my weapon.

I followed him back into the brothel. He was about to ring the bell but I stopped him. “I want the same girl I had last night.”

“Star? Sure, sure. How about two girls? I give you a good price.”

I shook my head. “Nope, one will do. ‘Star’ did a good job.”

“What’s in the bag?”

I opened it up. “Some food, water, clothes, lotion. I wanted her to dress up for me and smell good. How much for an extra hour? I’m heading back out to sea tomorrow.”

He rummaged through the bag, and then squinted his eyes. “I give her to you for two hours free, for your watch.”

I didn’t hesitate to hand it over to him.

His face broke out into a smile. He motioned to me and led me down the hallway, to her door. Then he turned and left to lure the next jerk like me inside.

I paused before I opened the door.

One desperate plea. This wasn’t a Hollywood blockbuster or a New York Times best-selling thriller. I knew that this time there was no room for excuses, no margin for errors. I had one chance to put the cape on and be her hero.

The door squeaked. Annie was sitting on her cot, rocking back and forth, cradling her body.

Her head snapped to the side when she saw me. As her jaw dropped, I shut the door and put my index finger over my mouth, motioning for her to stay quiet. My eyes darted around the walls, scanning for a camera. Luckily, this low budget brothel was not high tech. The acidic smell of heroin made me gag. I glared at the floor and saw used needles under the bed.

She must’ve understood my disgusted expression because her chin dropped and she cowered.

I knelt beside her and traced my fingers over her tattoo. The image was ingrained in my memory; it was a perfect match.

After five years, extensive manhunts, and expensive private investigators, I’d found Annie Hamilton.

This time, she wasn’t wearing lingerie, probably because she hadn’t been called out to the line. She was clad in a stained white tee shirt and pink cotton panties.

I sat on the bed and held her hand. “Annie, my name is Patrick Walsh—I’m a Navy SEAL. I’m going to get you out of here.”

Her body trembled and she started shaking her head. But she didn’t speak.

“I’m sorry for running out of here the other night.”

I debated apologizing for paying her to give me a blowjob. But I wasn’t sorry. A, it was amazing. And B, I’d found her. That was all that mattered. Maybe I also hoped I could get a repeat performance. Wishful thinking considering her current state. I pushed the thought from my mind.

Annie sobbed quietly. But I could handle that. Being raised by a single mom, I’d comforted her so many times growing up it was as if I were the parent. Every time her heart broke, she lost a job, or didn’t have enough money for Christmas presents, I was the one she had turned to.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m going to take care of you.” I embraced her; her tiny frame almost disappeared in my strong arms. She buried her head into my chest. From now on, there could be no sexual contact between us ever again. But I wasn’t an asshole—she’d been through hell and back and if she needed me to hold her, wipe away her tears, and tell her everything was safe, I would do that. “You can relax. I’m not going to have sex with you, or make you touch me—that’s not why I’m here tonight.” I brushed back the hair on her face and handed her the paper bag. “I picked you up some things, clothes and stuff.”

Mascara ran down her face. She opened the bag and took out a sundress, fresh panties and a bra, and some coconut-scented lotion. I kept the necklace in my pocket.

Her tongue poked in her cheek and she swallowed.

“Put the dress on.”

She nodded, stood up and turned away from me as she undressed. I couldn’t stop staring at her tight little ass. Her sudden shyness surprised me, since less than twenty-four hours ago she had my dick in her mouth. I felt a dull pain in my chest. I hated myself for adding to her nightmare. At least I came back.

I needed to figure out her daily routine, how far gone she was on heroin, and try to make a plan. There was no intel team on the ground making action plans for me. I was in charge. And alone. No one to watch my back...or hers.

“Ready to Lead, Ready to Follow, Never Quit.”

I couldn’t risk making a call later to the FBI or smuggling her now to the embassy. I didn’t have time to conduct a full background investigation and go through the proper channels.

Maybe I should’ve told Vic. He would’ve known what to do. But Vic played by the rules. He would’ve never let me go rogue. Or accompany me to a brothel, for that matter. Vic was a good man, a deeply pious Catholic. When his wife cheated on him during our last mission, I didn’t know if he would make it. He spent every minute back in the States with his daughter, Carina. I knew he missed her like crazy. I couldn’t imagine having a child. My dad left before I was born, so I wouldn’t have a fucking clue about how to be a father.

Annie turned back toward me, dressed in her sweet yellow sundress, her hands fidgeting, as if she wanted approval.

“Sweetheart, you look gorgeous,” I offered. Though she was way too skinny, and her skin was speckled with bruises and welts, she was still sexy as hell. Her pouty lips curved up, her wild hair framed her face. I wanted to hike up that sundress, rip off her panties and feel her wet pussy clench around me, but I knew that I could never cross the line with her. From the moment I realized who she was, she became like any other job. She was nothing more than a mission to me now.

She sat on the cot next to me. I wanted to move over and put an invisible line of distance between us but I kept her close by my side. I didn’t want any temptation; I had a job to do.

I whispered into her ear. “I need to take a few pictures, okay?”

She just shrugged and I took out my phone. Took a shot of her ankle, her scar, and her face.

“What happened, Annie? Tell me everything.”

She remained silent. Her dilated pupils remained fixed on the wall.

I pulled her to me, and stroked her hair. “I’m sure they think that by now they’ve humiliated you so much you’d never consider running. You can trust me. But I can only help you if you let me.”

Her shoulders dropped and she blinked rapidly.

I didn’t want to talk about myself, but I guess she needed more from me in order to open up. “I believe you. I’ve gone through extensive training on reading people. I saw your tattoo, your eyes, your name. I checked out the new reports. Once I heard you speak, I knew you were an American, but I was spooked. I don’t run away from problems, I fix them. If anyone can save you, I can. But if I told my command I found you, I’d have to go to Captain’s Mass for going to a brothel, my career would be over, and then I’d never be able to get you out of here. And they would have to clear any rescue plans through the CIA and FBI, it could take months. I can’t just take you to the embassy with your pimp hanging around. The embassy is closed today anyway. I’m confident that I can rescue you; I just need some more info. So start talking.”

She still didn’t say a word.

I ran my hands over the scabs on her arms. “So the drugs, only heroin? How much do you do?”

Her voice trembled. “Yeah, heroin. Every other day or so. That’s all he gives me. I can’t stop, if that’s what you are asking. It’s the only happiness I have left.”

Right. I knew she was a junkie. Can’t say that I blamed her. “I get it. I’m not judging you. How long have you been in this brothel?”

“Don’t know. I’ve been traded a few times.” She paused and gave a blank stare. “Different islands, too. Aruba, Columbia, Venezuela. I guess in a way I’m lucky—my mom is Mexican-American and I speak Spanish so I didn’t stand out amongst the girls. When I was first kidnapped, they took me straight to Aruba for a year so I wouldn’t be found. But I was so fucked up, it’s all a blur.”

I had wondered how she’d survived so long. Her exotic looks and language skills must’ve helped her blend in with the other girls. “Are there any other American girls here?”

“Not anymore,” she deadpanned. “There was a girl here once, she’d been kidnapped during spring break in Aruba. Pretty, blonde, young. Her name was Nicole.”

Nicole Race? She’d disappeared on a family vacation a few years ago—I saw her name when I was researching Annie. Was last seen talking to a bartender at a popular tourist club in Aruba. Was finding these girls not a priority? Didn’t the FBI and CIA have intel out here? “Where is she?”

“Dead.” Her voice trembled. “She was my rock, took care of me when I first got here, hugged me after I was raped the first time, prayed with me every night that we would one day return home. This one time, we were convinced we were going to be saved. But once the months turned into years, she gave up. She O.D.’d, maybe even on purpose. If I ever get out of here, I promised her that I'd tell her family what happened to her.”

Annie brushed against my arm. I didn’t want to touch her any more than necessary to comfort her. I figured enough men over the years had fondled her. “What happened the morning you were taken?”

Her voice cracked. “Chris, uhm, my boyfriend—” she looked up at me. I nodded and she continued, “we went dancing in the cruise nightclub, got totally smashed. He got a bit jealous that I was singing on stage with the band but we didn’t fight or anything like that. We went back to the room and were so drunk—we didn’t even have sex. We just passed out on the bed. I woke up at around five and puked. I decided to get some fresh air on the balcony and watch the ship come into port. After around thirty minutes, I had an idea to take pictures of the sunrise on the deck. I didn’t want to wake Chris, so I just tiptoed past the bed and left the room. The drummer of the house band walked into my elevator. He told me he knew a spot on the ship for crew only where I could take the best pictures of the sunrise, so I went with him. Once I was up there, he knocked me out with chloroform, I think. When I woke up, I was on a ship to Aruba.”

Motherfuckers. I could feel my blood burn. But I needed to focus on the future, not the past. “Annie, this isn’t your fault. None of this. I hope you know that. Are you ever allowed outside the brothel?”

“No.” The little bit of color she had in her cheeks seemed to fade away. She wasn’t sure I could save her.

But I knew I could.

“Why’d you tell me your name?”

She stopped shaking and touched my face, tracing my beard with her fingers. Chills radiated through me. “Because you looked into my eyes and asked me. I knew you were an American. I was praying you were a Navy SEAL. I grew up in San Diego; used to watch the guys train in BUD/S on the beach in Coronado when I went to brunch at the Del with my parents.” She paused and her fingers made her way down to my neck, my arms. “Your full beard, your strong arms, your muscles, your long hair—I knew you weren’t just some typical sailor. Something about your eyes . . . sounds crazy, but I trusted you. Despite the fact that you’d just paid a hooker to give you a blowjob, I could tell that you were a good man. I’ve seen so many men and their eyes were dark, cold. Or worse, dead. But yours . . . I can’t explain it. They’re kind, but hurt, you know? For five years, I’ve held on to this fantasy that I’d be rescued. I prayed for you, I’ve dreamt of you. I just knew you were sent for me. You are my only hope.”

Whoa. That was heavy. This chick believed she willed me to save her, like some divine prophecy. I swallowed hard. This was getting intense. But I liked intense.

“You told the right man. And I’m glad you showed me your tattoo. Your parents have it plastered all over their website.”

She smirked. “To think my parents grounded me when they found out I got it. I used my fake ID and went to one of those tattoo shops in Pacific Beach. When they first saw it, they told me that I was an embarrassment to our good family name and that they were ashamed of me.”

Pretty harsh. Her parents seemed like pretentious jerks. I mean all eighteen-year-old girls experimented with their clothes, hair, makeup, piercings, tattoos. But her laughter made me smile. To think she could still find humor during her hell showed me how resilient she was. “I noticed it the second you showed it to me. I immediately thought, ‘Why would this Caribbean hooker have a tattoo of Arvid the Alien on her ankle?’”

“Well, I wasn’t sure you were paying attention to my ankle.” That made me feel like a grade-A asshole. “I figured if I did a good job,” she went on, “then maybe you would believe me.”

Was this girl serious? I expected her to be mellow, high, maybe even mental. But she was teasing me. I felt my pants get tighter and decided to change the subject.

“How many men secure this place?”

“Well Jose, who you met. And Berto also. A few other guys come around but I don’t think they’re armed.”

“I’ve taken men a thousand times more dangerous than them. Annie, I’m going to get you out of here, but I can’t do it today.” Her head started shaking but I continued. “I need to case the entire building, the surrounding area, get a car, find a safe house for you. Bring a few of my buddies. I need you to act normal. Do what they say. My ship is leaving Curaçao tonight for a mission, but I will come back for you, I promise.”

She pulled a fistful of her hair and rocked her head back on the cot. “No, please don’t leave me here. Take me with you. I know you can.” She rubbed her skin.

Hell if I was just going to lay there and watch her rock herself back and forth, like she was in some mental institute. She needed someone to comfort her, hold her, tell her that her nightmare would be over soon. I took her in my arms and flipped her on top of me. She nestled her head on my chest. “I won’t let you down, Annie. I will get you out of here and back to your family. I wish I could save you today but I can’t. My ship is heading out on a mission. I promise you that I’ll spend every moment figuring how to get you back to your family.”

Her breath quickened. “Please, Patrick. Please, take me now. I need to go home. I’m going to die here. I can’t take another day in this life. I’ll do anything you ask.”

She attempted to kiss my neck but I pulled away and sat up, holding her to my side.

“I have to leave. But I have something for you.” I rummaged through my pocket and retrieved the necklace, and placed it around her neck.

She gasped as if it was expensive jewelry, not a cheap fake gold chain with a starfish charm. I hoped if her pimps figured it had no value, she’d be more likely to be allowed to keep it.

I stroked her forehead. “Every time you look at it, know that I’m working on extracting you. You aren’t invisible—you’re invincible. I know you’re alive. I know your name. You’ve survived this long and I won’t let you down.” My pulse raced and I resisted the urge to kiss her lips. Her vulnerability was like a sword in the chest and a shot to my dick. I wanted to both protect her and fuck her and it was a combination that could get both of us killed.

Her voice cracked. “Please, take me. I’ll do anything. Don’t leave me here. I shouldn’t be here. You don’t understand—”

“I’m sorry, Annie. I have to go.”

“Patrick!” She started looking desperate, clutching me now. God, don’t freak out. Don’t give it all away! “If for some reason I never see you again, promise me you’ll tell Chris that I didn’t kill myself. And my parents that I love them.”

I firmly moved her hands off my chest. “You’ll be able to say whatever you want to your boyfriend and your parents yourself. Soon.” I never made promises I couldn’t keep. I couldn’t face her family if I couldn’t save her. Or her boyfriend. I could just imagine it—your girlfriend gave me head in a brothel but I didn’t save her. Not going to happen.

Her body was shaking. “What if I’m not here when you come back? What if they trade me?”

Fuck it. I pulled her to my mouth. Our lips touched, soft and tender. She needed solace, not passion. “Babe, I will find you. No matter what.”

“My word is my bond.”

She kissed me back, a desperate kiss. Her mouth hot and wet. She didn’t taste bitter and dry like I’d expected her to. No. She was salty and fruity, like a strawberry margarita. I wanted to drink her up, taste every inch of her body, pleasure her instead of forcing her to service me. I wanted to see a warm flush wash over her face and make her glow just for me. To make her come and scream out my name, and tell her that she’d be safe and never scared again. I wanted to protect her and promise her that as long as I lived, no man other than me would ever touch her again.

Instead I pushed her off of me, and rolled off the cot. I pressed one hundred dollars into her hand, opened the door, then walked out of her room, out of the brothel. Staying any longer would arouse suspicion and I couldn’t fuck this up for Annie.

Every step I took away from her tore me up inside. Why should I be safe when she was stuck here turning tricks? Hadn’t she been through enough hell for a lifetime? I should’ve knocked out her pimp and carried Annie to safety. But I needed to be patient to ensure the success of my mission.

“I stand ready to bring the full spectrum of combat power to bear in order to achieve my mission and the goals established by my country.”